Mystère vs Histoire
by chefm297
Summary: Draco and Hermione thought everything was going to be easy - until they discover an ancient connection between their two families . . . and themselves.
1. Chapter I

Prologue

"Pass the wine," Lucius told Draco, his ten year old son, who took a large gulp of his own glass of wine and passed the bottle to his already drunk father. Narcissa glanced over at them and returned to her conversation about dragon hide exporters with Hermione Granger's mother, Jean, while Jean's husband, William, looked on with great interest. Hermione peeked out through the open doorway leading onto the terrace.

"Um, mother, can I be excused?" Draco asked, already getting up to leave. He made eye-contact with Hermione, silently telling her to wait.

"Sit down," his father barked, though he made no effort to chase after Draco when he left anyway.

He rushed after Hermione (she knew his house better than even Draco himself) until he caught up to her at the bottom of the grand spiraling staircase hugging the walls of a large, circular room. The last step ended in front of a large stone door. Instead of entering it, they made a sharp turn immediately to the left, then back around to the underside of the bottom of the staircase. At their touch, a nearly transparent trapdoor revealed itself next to their feet, which led through a tunnel into their secret room. Draco didn't hesitate when he jumped into the darkness. Hermione followed.

Hermione flicked on a lamp, illuminating her tired face. The project they were working on had been very time consuming, but with it came an immense amount of excitement. They were on the verge of a major breakthrough, and she couldn't wait to get back to work.

Draco decided otherwise a few days ago; for the past week he'd been seated in a chair at the corner of the room, playing with his shoelaces, which changed color every second (a simple charm afflicted upon them by his mother). She told him to help, but he'd lost his hope of ever going anywhere with this hopeless cause. But today he seemed different, Hermione didn't know what had gotten into him, and he stood next to her at the low coffee table, which was dimly lit by glowing constellations shining brightly on the walls of the small room. They had always felt safe here, away from the outside world. Draco and Hermione, who were both ten years old and had a knack for exploring things, often disappeared to this very room whenever their parents decided to have lunch, or dinner or something, and occasionally when Lucius got drunk at the end of the night and tried to teach them muggle games. And for that especially they were greatful for this room. (For Lucius often lost control and wound up slapping them when they played patty cake.)

Hermione carefully splayed her palms across the table and fell into deep concentration, her eyes slowly closing. Her breath quickened and her cheeks turned a bit pink as she began to sweat uncontrollably. The middle of the table began to discolor and melt, and soon the top opened completely, revealing wilted paper with various codes and potion recipes, which they found along with their very first visit to the room, and then fairly new paper distributed randomly along the thick stacks containing combinations of Draco and Hermione's own creation.

At that moment, Hermione dropped and crumpled to the floor. Draco rushed to her side.

"I'm okay," Hermione waved away the hand he offered, then struggled to her feet and lifted the papers she had just risen from the table with trembling, damp fingers.

"I told you not to do that," said Draco quietly, not looking at her. "We could have just hid it in the corner or something."

Hermione pretended she didn't hear him and defiantly began organizing the papers into neat, sorted piles. She left one sheet in particular on the side, purposely putting it in Draco's line of vision. Draco examined it, and his eyes went wide with delight.

During the time he hadn't been helping her, she had begun her own little project. She smiled expectantly when he flipped the paper to the back.

He stared at her with a dazed look in his eyes. "No way," he whispered.

"Way."

He laughed and began flipping the paper back and forth in disbelief. "So, how do you pronounce this? Empress?"

Hermione rolled her eyes half-heartedly. "Imperious – the Imperious Curse. We can do anything we want with it," she said quickly, as if to not lose his attention. "Even get your mother to stop talking about preserving dragon hide. And stop your father from slapping us when he's drunk!"

Draco raised his eyebrows at this, as if to say "When he's drunk?", but at that moment, Hermione's mother shouted loudly from the terrace, telling her they were leaving soon and that she had a couple of minutes to say good-bye. Disappointed that they didn't get much work done, Hermione fumbled with the papers and put them in the center of the table. She put her fingers at the center, and was just about to hide them again when Draco stopped her.

"Let me do it this time," he said with a worried glance at her over his shoulder.

He hid it twice as fast as it took Hermione to hide the first time, and then they hurried up the ladder shingles, through the trapdoor, 'round the spiral staircase, and then spilled onto the Malfoys' long, convoluted driveway.

Hermione quickly said good-bye to Draco without giving it much thought, for she knew she'd be seeing him again tomorrow.

Hermione and her parents piled into their metallic blue MINI Cooper convertible, which they'd gotten while in The States. It was a particularly nice night, so they decided to keep the top down. The wind gently ruffled Hermione's hair, blowing delicate strands around her face. Her slightly drunk, rowdy parents blasted the muggle radio with their fists pumping the air above them to the beat. Hermione laughed. Her mother preceded to sing the lyrics:

"_Got my glasses, I'm out the door, I'm gonna hit the city._

_Before I leave, brush my teeth, with a bottle of jack._

_'Cause when I leave for the night, I ain't comin' ba – "_

The car suddenly lurched, and she saw a white light coming towards their car at nauseating speed. At first Hermione thought she was going to be hit by a spell. But upon further inspection, she realized it was a car. It was the last thing she saw before waking up at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

She slowly opened her eyes, first registering the solid white walls around her. Immediately a nurse rushed to her side. She looked wide-eyed and flustered.

"Oh, good, Dearie, your awake," she set her clipboard on the nearby dresser. She kneeled beside Hermione's hospital bed. She hesitated before saying quietly, "It's too bad I can't say the same about your parents."

"W-w-what do you mean?"

At this instant Narcissa and Lucius burst through the double doors. The nurse looked up to see a tall, thin blonde women that walked with an air of elegance and grace; A sharp-looking man with a chiseled jaw, who looked grim; and a young blonde boy creeping out from behind his father's legs, who looked extremely puzzled.

Draco noticed the silence. "Who died?" he asked, not noticing the terrible relation to the situation.

The nurse shivered. Hermione ignored him and repeated her question.

The nurse turned her gaze back to the little girl.

"Your parents are dead."

The only person taking this news as badly as Hermione was Draco Malfoy.

The nurse then turned to Narcissa. She looked prepared for whatever the nurse was going to say.

"I just need to examine her once more. . . . Then you can take her home."

"H-home," Hermione stuttered.

Suddenly each Malfoy turned towards her, addressing her for the first time.

"Yes, Sweetie – your coming to live with us, since we're your godparents, and, well, for the time being anyway, we're also your legal guardians now."

The Malfoy's exited the room to allow the nurse to examine Hermione before she was permitted to leave.

* – * – *

Hermione exited her room to find the Malfoy's patiently waiting at the receptionist's desk.

Narcissa looked up from the bell she'd been inspecting with a puzzled look. "Are you ready to go, Dear?" said Narcissa delicately. She had a sorrowful gaze.

Hermione quietly nodded. They each took a handful of floo powder and arrived at The Manor. Narcissa and Draco escorted Hermione to the room she stayed in every time she slept at their home, so it was quite familiar.

Hermione spent weeks on end just sitting on the bed in the corner of the room, occasionally excepting food from the house elves. After three weeks of solitary confinement, it became apparent that she needed some type of human interaction. So she finally allowed Draco to enter, but no one else.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked timidly. He didn't walk past the dresser next to the door.

Tears stung at the back of her eyes, and she immediately regretted allowing Draco in. She tried to resist rolling her eyes, but ultimately failed. She shook with irritation when saying: "Of course I'm not _okay_."

Draco was taken aback, and to be honest, a little hurt. "You're going through tough times, I know. But that doesn't mean you should take it out on the ones you have left."

Hermione went stiff but kept quiet.

He advanced towards her and spoke a bit more loudly. "You've sat in here for too long. You have to quit wallowing in your own self-pity. I can't stand seeing you like this – it's so depressing!"

"How could you possibly be so insensitive?" Hermione cried. She stood up.

"How could _you_ be so insensitive? You have no idea what you've been putting my mother through. You aren't the only one that's suffered a loss here," Draco retaliated.

The weight of his words came crashing down around her, but she refused to back down.

"I didn't ask for this! I don't want your pity!" Hermione spat. Draco glared at her with a venomous gaze.

"No one asked for you to come," Draco spat back with malice in his eyes.

He abruptly turned to leave, slamming the door in his wake.

Hermione slumped onto her bed. She dragged her knees to her chest and began to sob uncontrollably.

When her desperate cries segued to whimpers, she realized, with a great deal of despair, what she had to do.

She had to get away from this place; she had to run away.


	2. Chapter II

Chapter 1: The Gardens

Hermione wiped her puffy eyes and promptly left through the back door. She snuck across the stone walls and kept to the shadows of Malfoy Manor. She appeared to be in a maze, and, being that she was only ten, she didn't have the slightest clue how to disapparate.

Hermione wandered around for a while before coming to the conclusion that she was hopelessly lost.

At that moment she heard a crack and she spun on her heels. Narcissa was walking towards her, Dobby hot on her trail. He was looking at his feet and glancing nervously around the maze.

"Oh, Dear, what on Earth do you think you're doing?" Narcissa hurried to Hermione and knelt down. She clapped her hands on her cheeks and inspected her face, searching her eyes.

Hermione pulled Narcissa's hands away and stomped her foot indignantly. "I'm running away!" she declared. "Draco's being mean."

Narcissa laughed a bit. "Oh, Sweetie, don't take it personally. Just ignore him, you have just as much right to be in this house as he does. "

Hermione thought for a second and shot a questioning look towards Narcissa.

"Wait a second, how did you know what he said to me?"

Narcissa gave her a knowing smile. "Dobby told me, of course."

Hermione turned to Dobby, who was grinning sheepishly, "Well thank you, Dobby." Hermione said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She then turned back to Narcissa.

"You know what? What would make you feel better? Anything." Narcissa asked Hermione, hoping to cheer her up.

Hermione grinned mischievously. "Well . . . Oooh! Can you make Draco sleep outside?"

Narcissa raised her eyebrows, but, deciding Hermione was going through enough already, she reluctantly agreed to make her only son sleep outside. "If that would make you happy," said Narcissa.

* – * – *

"What? Why the bloody hell would you make me do that?"

Draco's shouts echoed throughout The Manor from his bedroom (Hermione thought he was overreacting a bit) and Hermione snickered just as loud when Narcissa entered the kitchen after telling him Hermione's price for forgiveness.

Hermione laughed so hard she found it difficult to eat her soup – she didn't want it coming out of her nose.

After finishing her dinner, she found herself staring down the grand spiral staircase. Her good mood had begun to wear thin. She needed something to take her mind off things – books and work would definitely take her mind off things.

Hermione stared at the circular room, with it's elegant steps hugging the perimeter. She was so impatient, as to walking 'round the stairs to the bottom, she actually jumped down the space in the center of the tall room and caught herself right near the bottom for a few seconds before gently lowering herself down the few inches left between her stomach and the floor.

She made her way under the belly of the bottom stairs. The very last stair was the tallest (they always had to jump down when they walked the flight) and she was able to stand just beneath it. When Hermione looked under her feet, she saw that the trapdoor had already been activated, and she curiously pried it open. . . .

She almost choked when she saw the all-to-familiar shock of electric blonde hair.

Draco sat in the dark, eating licorice wands from the stash in the corner, which they both agreed was only for emergencies (well at least Draco agreed – Hermione had crossed her fingers). The least he could have done was waited for her.

Hermione silently hopped onto the floor of the small room and placed her tiny fists on her hips while she stared at him accusingly. He didn't notice her for quite a few minutes.

"Ahem."

The half-eaten candy flew out of his hand and hit the far wall. He jumped with fright. Draco looked up, finally acknowledging the presence of another being. Hermione promptly marched over and struck him across the cheek. Hard.

"OW! What the bloody hell would you do that for?"

"You're supposed to be outside!"

"Ow, stop hitting me!"

"You said so yourself that you would sleep out there." Hermione was fuming and the air in the room became stuffy and hot.

"No I didn't!"

"Well . . . you should have! I'm telling Aunt Cissa."

"Don't be a berk, Hermione. And what are you going to tell her, anyway? That I'm sleeping in our secret room instead?"

Hermione realized he was right. She couldn't tell anyone, not even Aunt Cissa, about this room. Draco looked quite proud of himself. Then Hermione got an idea.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I've got my own secret room now. It doesn't matter if this one's let up. It'll only turn back on you."

Draco's smirk faded, and he reluctantly climbed the ladder with the sleeping bag he'd brought down clutched in his arm.

Draco turned back to look at her. "Aside from the fact that my mother would never make me sleep in th-the Gardens, I know almost certainly that you wouldn't let me either!"

"Yes I will."

Draco kept going. "And this isn't even about me, is it?"

"It is."

"Your just taking out all your anger on me!"

"No I'm not."

"Is that it? Am I your little punching sack?"

"Your still sleeping outside, Draco."

"Arrrrgh."

* – * – *

Draco shivered in his sleeping bag. He shrunk down into the bottom of it. Low growls rolled through his mind. He couldn't do this. Not with this kind of fear.

He was just about to hop out of his sleeping bag and make a break for it when another growl split through the night. This time it wasn't only in his head. More growls became louder and more apparent. Louder and louder. . . .

Deafening.

He slowly looked up to see, merely twenty feet away from him, an enormous lime green monster, towering fifteen stories. Slippery ropes of saliva hung from wide, pebbly lips. It's large head was mounted on a slimy neck.

Draco struggled to his feet, still staring at it. He knew he had one advantage – it was blind in one eye. The left one. He still couldn't help it – he shrieked and ran for safety. Why his parents didn't get rid of it when they lived here, he had no idea. All he knew at the moment was that he couldn't stand to be even within a hundred feet of it's foul breath.

It bounded after him, and someone must have woken from his continuous girlish squeals, because suddenly one of the small black windows turned yellow. It stayed that way for a while, and then Hermione came bursting through the enormous front door of The Manor. She had difficulty pushing it open, and then when the monster was practically on top of him, a light grazed Draco's ear and splintered the monster's spine. It's whole back shattered and it fell in a heap on the ground, whimpering.

Hermione was standing, white-faced, inches from him. Her hand was seared. She must have shot lightening from her palm. She suddenly crumpled to the ground, too, clutching her hand.

"It was a Monstrum Veiridis," she said quietly. Her breathing slowed. "And you scream like a little girl." She closed her eyes.

* – * – *

Draco looked down at Hermione's small sleeping body, now safely resting in her own bed.

Narcissa walked in.

"Oh, good, you've healed her," she sighed with relief when she saw Hermione's hand. "Okay. Go back outside, Draco."

"WHAT?"

"You know what I mean. Get me some bandages." She shoved him playfully, but he accidentally rammed into the wall. He rubbed his elbow, which took the brunt of the hit. Narcissa rushed over to him and kissed his elbow. "I'm so sorry, Honey. Now you really need to get those bandages."

Draco reappeared minutes later with a box of BAND–AIDS. Narcissa flicked her wand and mended Draco's elbow before twisting her hand to make the BAND–AIDS hover. She peeled them and stuck them to Hermione's fingers without touching them.

"She's already healed, what'll that do?"

"Draco, these aren't ordinary bandages. I've soaked them in Bloor – it's a blood replenishing potion. She lost quite a bit of it when she did something so dangerous."

"I feel like this is all my fault."

Hermione woke up and sat straighter. "Because it is," she said accusingly.

"If you hadn't made me sleep out – "

"You made me run aw – "

"STOP! Both of you." Narcissa shouted.

They both stopped shouting and separated. Draco and Narcissa left Hermione to sleep, Draco muttering an apology under his breath.

The next morning Hermione asked Dobby to send Draco up to her room. When he arrived Hermione shut door and locked it with a click. Draco jumped in surprise and wondered why she had called him up there. He suddenly wished he'd told his mother where he was going, just in case.

Hermione sat in her chair and motioned for him to sit in the one across from her. He hesitated, which didn't go unnoticed by Hermione, who rolled her eyes. "What do you think I'm going to do? Murder you?" she joked.

Draco forced a nervous laugh at this while slowly backing away. "No, of course not." he said uncertainly, praying that his mother would call them down for breakfast already.

As if she heard his silent prayer, Narcissa called them at that moment to come down for breakfast. Draco practically flew from the room, trying to put as much distance between him and Hermione. Hermione slowly followed, glaring at Draco's retreating figure.

Draco arrived at the kitchen slightly out of breath. Narcissa turned to her son with a concerned expression on her face. "Draco, sweetie, what's wrong?"

Draco looked up at his mother with a dazed expression on his face. "I think Hermione is trying to kill me."

Narcissa laughed at her sons ignorance. "Draco, Hermione called you up to her room today to tell you that your father and I are buying you guys a puppy!" Narcissa exclaimed.

A smile lit up Draco's face, "Oh, in that case I should probably go apologize to Hermione."

Hermione, who had been listening to the whole conversation from outside the kitchen, quickly retreated up the stairs so Draco wouldn't see her. She stood on the third step waiting for Draco to appear. When she saw him coming she slowly walked down the remainder of the steps so Draco thought she was just coming down the stairs.

"Hi, Draco where you looking for me?" Hermione asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I just wanted to apologize for how I acted before." Draco said looking down at his shoes.

Since he was so busy studying his shoes he didn't see the smirk growing on Hermione's face. "What are you talking about?" she asked feigning ignorance.

Draco looked up and Hermione quickly concealed her smirk. "I...I... Let's just go eat breakfast."

Hermione and Draco shoveled down their pancakes and bacon eager to go pick out their new puppy. As soon as they finished the got into the car and drove to the pet shop.


	3. Chapter III

Chapter 2: The Pet Shop

The door chimed indicating the entry of a new customer.

Not just any customer, but the Malfoy's at that.

Narcissa Malfoy looked down at her precious son tugging on the hem of her prized dragon hide coat.

"Mummy," he whimpered. He tugged again to get her full attention. "C-can I get a puppy?" he questioned carefully.

"Of course that's why we're here." She cried. She was just glad he didn't want that African, blood-sucking bat screeching in the storefront next door.

She kneeled down next to him and her coat brushed the glowing linoleum slate next to stacks of crates housing multiple magical creatures. Draco stepped past each cage and stuck his fingers between the bars to them. They kept sleeping, not even slightly rattled by the disturbance. He notice one particular dusty, vacant crate sitting alone in the corner. Still staring, he slowly pulled his fingers away from the feathers of a glow-in-the-dark parrot and stepped towards it. Dirt trailed from the small open door and ended at the feet of a fat, ugly pug sitting silently next to the store owner's feet.

A scream lodged itself in Draco's throat and he stumbled backwards into his mother's arms.

"Why isn't that dog in his cage?" cried Draco. The pet shop owner suddenly went red.

"That's my daughter," he said slowly through clenched teeth.

A stubborn Draco pointed and shouted, "but I can see the fur poking out of it's shorts!"

Lucius snickered and shook his head. "It is so cliche to dress up animals these days. They'd think we were muggles."

Narcissa shoved the heel of her boot into his foot and he howled in pain, hopping on one leg. "That should shut him up," she muttered.

The store owner stared angrily at Draco, who was still pointing. The 'daughter' crawled closer to Draco, and he sank deeper into his mother's embrace, trying to shrink himself down into a little ball. Then he realized something - she was beneath him in the general hierarchy of the wizarding world. Regaining his composure, he stood up straighter, and stared down at the ugly ten-year-old sitting near his feet. She looked up at him, and he met her hideous glare head-on. If eyes were truly the windows to the soul, then hers was the most repulsive he'd ever seen before.

"This is my daughter, Pansy" said her father, recovering from previous awkwardness.

"She must be bloody awful," Lucius said. He thought he said it under his breath, but the owner's eyes went wide and his back stiff.

Pansy still sat at Draco's feet. "That's where you belong," Draco spat.

Pansy got to her feet, her head reaching only just above his waist. She smirked, looking pointedly towards his belt. "This is exactly where I want to be," she said, and winked, already adapting to her whorish tendencies.

The door then chimed again. Draco turned to see who had just entered. He gasped, a joyous smile gracing his features. Pansy spun on her heels to see who he was looking at. She pivoted on the rubber soles of her shoes.

She was shocked to see how such a plain looking girl with frizzy brown hair and huge buck teeth could bring such a smile to his face. While Pansy saw a plain looking girl with frizzy hair, Draco saw something completely different. He sighed and felt his breath catch in his throat, before him was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon. She had silky, honey brown hair that fell in elegant curls framing her delicate face. She had eyes like none he had ever seen before. If eyes were truly the windows to a person's soul, then her soul was absolutely beautiful. Draco wondered why he was thinking these things about Hermione, she was practically his sister. Shaking his head at these thoughts he turned back to Pansy, albeit unwillingly.

By now Pansy was fuming. Smoke was literally streaming out of her ears.

Draco coughed and exclaimed,"You know you can kill someone with second-hand smoke."

At the moment Pansy really didn't care if Draco just died in a hole, and she told him that. Draco turned to her and smacked her arm, he then abruptly turned to leave.

A little boy with dark skin and equally dark hair then called from behind Pansy with a smug smirk, "Hey dude, that's animal abuse." Draco and the boy immediately erupted into laughter, clutching their sides and leaning on the walls for support, they both knew this was the start of a great friendship.

Draco turned to the boy to introduce himself, "Hi, I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy."

The boy turned to shake Draco's outstretched hand, "Nice to meet you Draco. I'm Blaise."

Draco said goodbye to Blaise and walked over to Hermione who had just entered the shop.

Hermione looked up and saw Draco walking towards her. She smiled and asked "Are you ready to pick out our new puppy?"

"Yeah, what do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking about a white Pomeranian."

"Okay, we can ask the shop owner if he has any."

They walked over to the shop owner and told him what they were looking for. He showed them to the cage that was situated in the far left corner of the shop the puppy was in the second cage from the bottom. Hermione peeked through the bars of the dogs crate. It scuttled towards her and she poked her fingers through to pet it. She knew right away this was the dog she wanted.

Hermione rushed over to Narcissa. "Can we get the white pomeranian?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"Did Draco agree with your choice?"

Hermione ran over to where Draco was standing. "Can we get this one?" she asked and glanced at him expectantly.

Draco looked uncertain.

Hermione turned back to them. "Yes."

Narcissa and Lucius looked to the shop owner, "What's his – her?" – the owner shook his head – "What's his name?"

The pet shop owner replied, "His name is Buttercup."

Narcissa walked gracefully over to the shop owner and said, "We'll take the Pomeranian."

The shop owner nodded his approval and motioned to the cash register at the front of the store indicating that he would ring them up. "That'll be one hundred galleons."

Narcissa nodded and motioned for Lucius to come over. Lucius payed the shop owner and Hermione carried their new puppy while Draco carried the food, food dish, collar, toys, leash,etc.

When they returned to The Manor, Hermione and Draco took Buttercup to their secret room.

Hermione gently rocked Buttercup in her arms," This is are secret room so you cant tell anyone about it, okay?"

Draco scoffed, "Who the bloody hell would he tell, he's a dog he can't speak."

Buttercup nipped at Draco's finger.

"Ouch, he bloody bit me."

"Well maybe if you had been nicer to him he wouldn't have bitten you." Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"Fine, I'm sorry." Draco said.

"It's not me you should be apologizing to." Hermione stated.

"Are you bloody kidding? Fine, I'm sorry Buttercup." Draco said petting Buttercup's soft fur. Buttercup jumped into Draco's arms a snuggled closer to his chest.

"Hey, back off he's mine." Hermione said jokingly.

Draco looked up at her, his eyes widened in shock. Hermione realized what she had just said and, mortified, immediately ran from the room.

Draco realized what was happening and with a smile he decided this would be good for their arranged marriage. He quickly shook these thoughts from his head; he shouldn't be worrying about marriage, he was only ten after all.

* – * – *

Draco ran down the stairs, so excited that today was his birthday. He entered the kitchen and sat down for breakfast. He noticed that Hermione was sitting at the table waiting for him to come before she ate her own meal. Draco did as expected and poured himself a bowl of sugary cereal with melted ice cream that sat at the bottom of the bowl. There was a dish of raw sugar sitting dutifully at its side. This was his normal birthday breakfast.

Draco dumped five tablespoons of sugar into his already far too sugary cereal. Hermione rolled her eyes at the amount of food he could eat and wondered how he could hold it all in.

"I don't know," Draco responded, turning back to his cereal.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione questioned, suddenly very confused.

"You asked how I could eat so much," Draco stated as though it was obvious. He knit his eyebrows when she stared at him. "What?"

Hermione looked extremely puzzled. "I didn't say that out loud, I thought it."

Narcissa, who had been watching the ordeal on the side, realized it was time for her to intervene. The realization hit her hard; she dropped the ladle she had been holding and it hit the floor with a loud clatter.

At that same moment Draco took a spoonful of his cereal and spit it out immediately, noticing that something wasn't right. Hermione bursted out laughing, startling Narcissa from her trance.

Draco glared at Hermione, "What did you do to my cereal? It's my birthday – would it have killed you to be nice to me for just one day?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Yes, it would have," Hermione replied nonchalantly.

Narcissa decided to stop them before they got into a row. She held up a hand, signaling them to be quiet. "Just – just _try_ to get along today," she said with an exasperated sigh. Narcissa swiftly left the room, leaving the children in a baffled silence.

Draco glared at Hermione again and got up, wiping his face and throwing down his napkin. He left the room as well.

Hermione leaned across the table and dipped her finger into the mush of sodden flakes and sweetened milk that now sat in Draco's bowl. She smelled it first then tasted it. It was not sweetened at all. In fact, it was even salty. She smiled devilishly; then her lips tightened in disgust. She got up and made a scene of pouring it into the sink. The milk splattered her shirt, so she wiped it off with Draco's napkin.

Hermione stooped to the floor, lifting the ladle from the stained tiles. She waved it about the room, pretending as though it were a wand. A can of tomato paste fell to the floor a few feet away, staining the tiles even more so. She pretended to scoop it up with the ladle, cleaving the air with the large metal spoon. Surprisingly, the paste flew to the ladle's small, rounded bottom and sloshed up the sides. Hermione threw it into the large pot of soup Narcissa had been cooking and left the room.

* – * – *

Narcissa spooned large servings of soup into deep bowls, handing them off to her family. Hermione heaved her mini pot onto a space on the table in front of her. Draco did so too, resulting in a loud clatter that startled the spoon out of Hermione's hand. She angrily picked it up from the floor and wiped it on her shirt, dipping it into the fine, deep red substance and slurping it into her mouth. She smiled with deep ardor for the meal. Narcissa commented on how it tasted much different from the last time she made it, how it was so much better and she couldn't believe it came out of her own kitchen. This made Hermione smile for a different reason. They enjoyed the rest of their dinner in silence.


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter 3: Letters from Hogwarts

_One week later. . . ._

Hermione leapt out of bed and ran down the stairs to the kitchen. She noticed Draco was already seated and enjoying his breakfast. He looked up at her, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"I made you a special breakfast for your birthday." Draco said as innocently as possible.

Hermione cautiously took the plate he so willingly offered. He practically forced it into her hands, still smiling.

Hermione cautiously took a bite of the eggs before the yolks erupted in her face. Literally an explosion of flavor.

Draco tried to contain his laughter, but ultimately failed. He was now rolling on the floor, howling with laughter.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What happened to being nice to someone on their birthday?" Hermione mocked, repeating what he had said on his own birthday.

Draco smirked, "Why, that only applies to me, of course."

Hermione's eyes narrowed even more. "You arse!" Hermione exclaimed.

At that moment Narcissa walked into the room. "Watch your language young lady!" she scolded.

* – * – *

Hermione flicked her hand. Almost instantly, an enormous cloud of dirt was uprooted from the Malfoys' backyard. She held up her palms and hardened the dirt before twirling her fingers, making water come swirling from the clouds above and crashing to the bottom of her new, homemade pool. She already had her one-piece on and dived in head first, shooting like a rocket towards the ten-foot deep floor. She wrung out her hair when she surfaced. She heated the water, making it a hot tub – with misty towers of water vapor that must have been clotting her view of the house, because she didn't see Draco stride over to the edge of the hole. She raised her hands, and a mini tsunami threatened to drench Draco with hot water. He backed away.

"Not to spoil your fun, but Mum says you have to clean this up when your done," he gestured to the pool. Hermione threw the large wave of water at him, but he quickly ran for cover, and she only managed to soak his right side. But she quickly made up for it by shifting the water vapor towers directly at Draco's receding figure. He laughed when he slipped in the now moist ground, and Hermione laughed harder. Draco, since he was already wet, did a cannonball into the deeper part of the pool. Hermione tossed smaller waves towards him, and the ones that missed eroded the sides of the pool, making it wide enough to swim laps in. The hardened dirt at the bottom and sides of it began to soften and mix with the water, and soon they were swimming in thick mud. Draco tossed globs of it at her face, and he spit a few clumps out of his mouth when Hermione had shoved dirt at him up close. The ten-year-olds played for hours on end until Narcissa called for them to eat dinner, for it was almost nine o' clock.

Hermione rinsed the mud from their skin, and once they dried off, inside the kitchen awaited large bowls of mushroom risotto, plates of asparagus, stacks of water crackers with cheese; ropes of sausages, piles of tender steak; boiled ham, chicken, and potatoes; several racks of lamb chops, various pasta dishes – cream, butternut squash, tomato basil, Alfredo, rosemary; steak and kidney pie, pan-fried pork. And for dessert – treacle tart, fried cheesecake, eclairs, fudge; chocolate crisps, chocolate-covered pineapple slices; jelly, powdered, strawberry donuts; ice cream sundaes, of all kinds; cakes, brownies, humungous cookies.

Hermione piled butternut squash pasta and steak on her plate, while Draco made a beeline for the stacks of brownies and donuts. She rolled her eyes when he went for a second eclair, so he ignored her and made sure to eat extra fried cheesecake just to make her mad.

Draco headed upstairs for a nap, and woke from his two hour sugar coma to watch _How I Met Your Mother_ on the telly, laughing every few seconds.

Hermione joined him on the couch, and they watched until one o' clock. Hermione fell asleep on the cushion adjacent to Draco, and he draped a comfortable blanket over her so as to keep her warm. She rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, her sharp, strong features softening nicely, which Draco noticed immediately. He smiled and fell asleep next to her, glad to have such a kind friend. He shifted slightly, not wanting to disturb her, so that her head was in his lap.

* – * – *

Draco woke before Hermione and, hours later, she joined him in the room she knew he was going to be in – their room.

He was excited she was there, for he was eager to tell her of the time at breakfast today when he put The Imperious Curse on his father to make his hand slip on the serving spoon, giving Draco an extra scoop (or three) of chocolate pudding.

But she didn't seem interested – in fact, she seemed quite distant, even sad. Draco frowned; he knew what was going on.

Every now and then, the full weight of her parents' death came crashing down on Hermione. But Draco knew what to do when these occasional depressing moments came around.

He scuttled over to the corner where they held their stash of charmed candy, which had grown immensely in both quantity and variety. She grinned when he handed her multiple licorice wands, along with a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, which they sampled themselves ("Hey, what's this one?"; "Don't eat – "; "Ugggghhh!").

They sat in there working and talking, Hermione laughing when Draco choked on pepper flavored ones; Draco was just happy he was cheering her up.

Hermione's smile faded when Draco blanked out on things to make her laugh – he had only been distracting her, and apparently that wasn't enough. They had to return to reality – her parents' death was tragic, and their was just no getting over that. But he could make her feel better.

He walked around to the other side of the table, and before he could even open his arms she fell into him. He wrapped his arms around her, not caring that her tears soaked his shirt, and he held her, just held her, and let her cry until she could shed no more tears.

*– * – *

The next morning a large barn owl soared through the open window in the kitchen. It dropped two thick envelopes with the Hogwarts seal on them. Hermione and Draco looked up from their plates and noticed the letters. They jumped from their seats and immediately tore open the two envelopes. Narcissa entered the kitchen and saw the two children squealing in excitement. Narcissa then noticed the parchment in their hands and enveloped them in a hug. She promised to take them to Diagon Alley to get their school supplies the very next day.


	5. Chapter V

Ch. 4 Diagon Alley

They arrived in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to begin their shopping in Diagon Alley. Draco happily accepted an ice cream cone that continually changed from chocolate to peanut butter and Hermione got a cone that switched from licorice to lemon sorbet. Hermione took a lick of her sorbet and felt the bile rising in her throat. She looked longingly towards Draco's cone and wished she had just gotten a classic combination. Draco noticed her looking and discreetly scooted the cone out of her line of vision.

"Draco . . . are you going to finish that?" Hermione asked in a flattering voice.

Draco rolled his eyes knowing that this was going to happen. "Hermione next time get a normal flavor like I told you to."

Hermione walked over to Draco and kicked him in the shin (hard) while swiftly snatching his ice cream and leaving hers to melt on the ground. She ran towards Flourish and Blotts, leaving Draco to clutch his leg in her wake. She watched him carefully and noticed that he was losing his balance. He tumbled over into a nearby fruit stand, knocking the oranges over into the face of the owner. The squat, plump lady scolded him and flicked her wand, promptly mending her stand and reorganizing the fruit.

Draco ran over to where his mother and Hermione were waiting.

Narcissa looked up at her son. "Draco, it was very kind of you to give Hermione your ice cream cone."

Draco glared at Hermione, who was giggling into her palm. Narcissa smiled at her son adoringly. "Why don't we go inside and get your school supplies?"

Hermione had run off, and they didn't know where she went, but when she reappeared a while later no one bothered to ask questions

After they finished in Flourish and Blotts they walked through the rest of the stores to get the remainder of their supplies and flooed back to the Manor.

* –* – *

Hermione stared anxiously from afar at the tea cup Lucius was holding, which was quivering in his pale hand. She looked as he slowly pulled out his wand (which was sticking out his coat pocket) and tapped the handle, the liquid turning lighter, something that Narcissa failed to notice but Hermione watched with a pitiful gaze.

Narcissa had lectured Lucius the day before about his drinking problem, and began replacing his alcohol with tea – him turning it back the moment she looked away. In fact, he began turning every tea batch into fancy liquors Hermione had never heard of, much less seen. Narcissa didn't even realize how much Lucius's lazy sense of humor seemed to be amplified by the afternoon. Hermione always found it delightfully hilarious whenever Draco accidentally poured himself a cup of the same batch his father drank from; she never bothered to stop him. She was fairly sure she was the only one (besides Lucius) who knew of his sneaky antics.

Hermione smiled and stifled a snicker when Narcissa said proudly, "You know, Lucius, I'm proud of you, never would have thought you'd be able to keep up with your limited-alcohol- schedule," – she raised her eyebrows challengingly and tapped the tea cup – "very," – tap – "very," – tap – "proud."

The last time she tapped it, it went darker, and when Lucius went to take a sip, he sprayed it on The Daily Prophet (quite convenient, he wasn't fond of the article he'd just read) and hastily wiped his chin on the now damp linen cloth lining the table.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

"Tea, you berk – and quit spiking the pot, yes, I know what you've been up to. Do you know how hard it was for me to put my _drunk_ son to sleep? You have no idea, do you?" She threw what was left in the bottom of the cup at Lucius's face. She put it down and turned back to her husband. "What were you thinking?"A house-elf obsequiously rushed to Lucius and handed him a napkin. Narcissa purposely ordered the elf to stop drying his face and sweetly sent the dutiful creature on his way.

Draco hastily shoved his tea cup onto the table at this revelation, and him and Hermione turned to leave, the bickering parents not noticing their disappearance. Lucius reached slowly for Draco's tea cup, but Narcissa slapped his hand away.

Draco took handfuls of pumpkin pasties and a few chocolate frogs from the pantry and snuck them into a bag. He saw the open trapdoor and jumped off the stairwell straight into the wide open tunnel, landing swiftly on his feet when he finally touched ground. Hermione stood hunched over a few papers, as usual, and was taking notes with a beautiful green quill – except she wasn't touching it; it was moving on it's own.

He tipped the pumpkin pasties into Buttercup's dog dish, who pushed it away with his paw, his nose upturned in disgust. Draco looked curiously down at him.

"He doesn't like sweets," Hermione stated, answering his unasked question. "He hasn't even attempted to steal from the stash in the corner."

Draco furrowed his brows at Buttercup jokingly. "Just when I was starting to like him." He picked up the dog dish and began eating the pumpkin pasties himself. Hermione looked at him with the same disgust as the horrified dog. "He wasn't going to eat this, was he?" Draco stuffed the treats into his mouth.

"What's that you've got there, anyway?" Draco asked through a mouthful, crumbs falling to the ground. He pointed a pastry towards the floating quill.

"It's a Quick Quotes Quill. I got it at Quillitorus," Hermione said with a grin. The quill began writing again.

"No, don't write that down!" – it hastily scratched a line across the words it had just written on a legal pad, which was also floating – "Anyway, I've been testing some spells, and you wouldn't believe what happened," she said excitedly.

Hermione told Draco a quick brush-up of what had happened when she'd left him with Narcissa after he tumbled into a fruit stand. She said that after she'd gotten her wand, she had begun testing the spell combinations that they had been working on for the last few years.

"How did it go?" Draco asked.

"Most had worked perfectly well," said Hermione to Draco, who stared, waiting intently. "But I was really looking forward to using one in particular. . . ." – Draco could guess what that was, and apparently he guessed right – "The Imperious Curse."

"Can I have that silver Unicorn horn," Hermione asked a shop owner, who looked a her bitterly. Claws hung in loose ropes from the ceiling, ensnared in tight knots, looming over her as if to attack. Blood stained the tips. She saw the price of the sterling silver horn, and stared with shock when she caught sight of the string of numbers; one hundred fifty-two galleons and seven sickles.

"Ya' got money?" he growled, going back to buffing the glass case that held the only shining works of the store.

"Not much."

"Then get out."

Hermione had begun boiling with anger to the brim, though she didn't know why. Maybe it was the fact that he told her to leave, or merely because she didn't get what she wanted, but for some reason she found herself slowly pulling out her wand from the new box she had bought it in, plasma shooting through her bloodstream; she directed the point at the man's back, who had turned away for the moment. Hermione whispered, "Imperio," and felt a tingle in her fingers; the man suddenly went stiff and hesitantly reached for the sparkling Unicorn horn shining in it's display case, then, more forcefully, tugged it out the small door on the bottom and carefully placed it in a bag, which Hermione took happily – without paying. She felt a surge of energy and cheerfulness. She thanked the man, letting sarcasm saturate her words, and left the shop without another word, bag in tow. The man was just recovering from the curse when Hermione turned the corner of the confusing street, too late to notice the glittering object peeking out the top of Hermione's bag.

Honeydukes had expanded their business chain, and a shop of theirs had just opened in Diagon Alley, which Hermione immediately rushed to and experimented with The Imperious Curse again.

_It works perfectly_, Hermione thought happily as she dragged a large bag of candy behind her.

"Wait, wait, wait," Draco signaled for Hermione to put her story on pause. "How did no one notice you carrying a two gallon bag of sweets?"

Hermione laughed. "I'm a kid – with candy – what's so unusual about that? And what do they care?" she added. Draco nodded and Hermione continued.

"There was this new candy shop that had opened further down the street. . . ." Hermione continued.

She entered the new candy shop – Thumbsuckers – and she exited with even more candy than before; these sweets were different than the average wizard candy you'd normally see on a trolley – Thumbsuckers specialized in lollies that changed flavor every few seconds, so you couldn't stop eating it or you may miss out on a delicious taste. Hermione couldn't wait to tell Draco, which she was doing right then.

"Wicked," exclaimed Draco with begrudging respect, finally noticing that the stack of sweets in the corner had grown twice as large, climbing even higher up the walls. He was just about to ask her if he could try one, when a worried look crossed his face.

"What if you get into trouble?" he said with a lingering, concerned look towards her.

Hermione looked at the sweets, too, and said, "Oh, _please_ – anyone I took from was under a spell, and if it didn't work, then why would they give me all this stuff?" She pointed at the beginnings of another pile spilling over itself in the corner, one that Draco knew would definitely be expanding in the future. Hermione didn't seem worried, but he could see it in her eyes, he knew her well enough.

Draco looked down at his ever-changing colored shoelaces then stared, once again, at Hermione. "Your right, your right," he said, and witnessed the concern wipe straight off her face, though he only said it to make her feel better; he didn't believe it himself.

"Besides, at least I got my schoolbooks for free," she wiggled _A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration_ playfully in the air. She put it on the table, smiling, muttering, "All free of charge," dreamily to herself. She snatched the floating quill out of the air and stuck it in her front pocket. Draco's smile was rather fixed when they left the room together.

* – * – *

They sat on the couch in front of the telly, enjoying Thumbsuckers lollies' while Narcissa refused to let Lucius consume any liquid on her watch, for she didn't trust him. Draco and Hermione sat shoulder to shoulder, Hermione twirling the lolly in her hand, fascinated by it's change in color; Draco sat with his eyes closed peacefully, an exaggerated _mmmmmm . . ._ escaping his lips. Three lollies hung from each corner of his mouth.

Draco suddenly jolted awake, spitting out all six candies. "Ugh!" he exclaimed. Hermione thought he'd gotten a vomit flavor.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh," he spit in a napkin. "Grape!"

Hermione began laughing as he started waving his hands in front of his open mouth and flopping around on the floor. Her shoulders shook with delight when one of the Thumbsuckers he'd spat out got stuck in his hair. Narcissa and Lucius didn't notice the disturbance.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic," Hermione cried happily. "Draco, relax!" Hermione helped him up and brought him to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth. She took a small scissor and cut out the section of his hair with the little candy stuck to it. He looked ridiculous. "Come on, let's go make supper," she said soothingly, holding out a hand as he jumped down from the counter. He took it and they left the bathroom behind them. "Aunt Cissy's still making sure Lucius doesn't die from alcohol poisoning."

Hermione began preparing the leftovers from her birthday feast, and at that moment, the heated argument between Narcissa and Lucius became even more heated.

Narcissa slammed her hand on the extremely long dining table, which Lucius was sitting at the other end of. "How could you?" Tears were steaming her eyes. Had Lucius cheated on her?

"Well, simple, I – "

"No, not how, idiot, I put you on this schedule for a reason – I care about you, and I care about our children," – when she said children, plural, Hermione's heart swelled; she would've hugged Narcissa had the circumstances needn't be so serious – "and I want them to grow up with a father who isn't on the brink of addiction," Lucius looked down, the same way Draco always did when he was worried. "Oh, you know you want the same, you know you have a problem, you just don't have the balls to admit it! You can't go on like this – you can die," –she ended her argument with a sour note – "and I don't have to take it anymore, knowing any moment my husband will drop dead!" She said the last words like she was telling him to do just that.

"Narcissa – "

"No! I don't want to hear you speak. Ever. Again. I probably won't anyway, your mouth will be full of Brandy."

"Please, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"You also promised you'd stop drinking so much."

No one had ever seen Lucius look so weak, including Narcissa, and Draco and Hermione decided it was time for them to leave. Hermione floated a couple of plates and a container of butternut squash Cavatelli down the trapdoor without the parents noticing and her and Draco decided to take the long way down.

"So . . . do you think they'll work it out?" Hermione asked delicately.

Draco looked away from her. "They always fight like this – but look at them still! – their together aren't they?" he said bitterly.

Hermione grimly agreed but didn't say another word. She could almost see his glowing eyes in the darkness; she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and they descended down the stairs in silence.

As they ate their dinner, they listened sadly to their parents exchanging arguments.


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter 5: King's Cross

Draco and Hermione walked nervously through King's Cross station, dreading the moment they were bound to step onto the scarlet train, which would take them to the supposed school of their dreams.

Narcissa strode quickly behind them, pushing them along towards the barrier that would open onto platform nine and three-quarters, while Lucius stumbled a few feet back, struggling to carry the two heavy trunks weighing him down. Draco and Hermione said it wouldn't be a burden if they carried them on their own, but Narcissa insisted on Lucius carrying them, her husband hardly volunteering –Hermione could've sworn she saw Narcissa smirking when Lucius slipped on a loose paper and stumbled head first into a nearby trolley, the luggage close behind. His long hair was now mangled around his head and blowing down his back.

"Oh no, I don't need any help," Lucius said loudly. "But thank you _so much_ for asking."

Narcissa rolled her eyes obviously.

Hermione felt a knot in her stomach. They were approaching the platform; it was slowly coming into view. After a few noisy minutes of pushing through confused passerbys, it was visible over a few heads.

"Just run through it," Lucius said through heavy breaths.

"I'll tell them what to do," Narcissa snapped. "Yes, Dears, just run through it," she said sweetly.

Draco went first; he sweeped confidently towards the barrier, but then as he approached he lost the spring in his step. Hermione followed quickly after him and knew that there was no way he would get through it if he was this cautious; she pushed him straight through with such force he nearly fell. She followed after him.

Meanwhile, Narcissa and Lucius were close behind on the other side. Just as Narcissa was almost on the platform, she looked over shoulder at the luggage her husband was carrying, said, "You could've gotten a trolley for that, you know," and disappeared into the wall without another word.

They waved their good-byes, laughed and cried, then at last took their seats in an empty compartment near the back of the scarlet engine. 

Hermione and Draco sat in an awkward silence, then, merely to break the ice, Hermione asked, "Want a lolly?" 

She brandished a Thumbsuckers lolly from her carry-on and held it towards Draco, who waved it away. Hermione shrugged and stuck it in her mouth. 

She found herself becoming extremely bored and pulled out the light read she'd brought along for the ride. Draco's eyes widened at the thick textbook sitting in Hermione's lap. She happily began flipping pages.

They had barely made it through the clean cut grass plains when Hermione reread the last sentence of page 712, the last page of the book. Draco had been staring at her the whole time, she didn't know why, and she tried to pay his constant looks no notice. 

When a plump witch came round and knocked on the compartment door, Draco began digging feverishly through his pockets, coming up with a half-eaten licorice wand, a wrapper, and four galleons. 

One galleon paid for a chocolate frog and a very large jug of iced pumpkin juice. They shared it, splitting the frog down the middle to reveal a delicate caramel center infused with croakoa, a magical substance it contained that was, perhaps, the reason they actually acted like frogs. They continued the ride in silence; Hermione pulled out a slightly larger book from her bag, sipping from her glass of pumpkin juice. 

When they approached unattended and abandoned fields, Draco suddenly looked up, eyes wide. He'd been jumpy the whole trip, and Hermione wondered whether or not to ask him why.

At some point, Hermione fell asleep, and sometime later someone was softly tapping her shoulder. Her eyes remained closed until a pair of soft lips pressed against her forehead. She slowly opened her eyes and saw a pair of silver ones staring back at her.

She jumped up suddenly and their foreheads crashed together. 

Draco was rubbing his forehead grumpily. "What the bloody hell was that for?" He asked. 

"Why were you hovering over me?" she shot back. 

"_I_, being the _fantastic_ friend that I am, decided to wake you up and let you know that the prefects told us to change into our robes now," Draco replied. 

"You _kissed_ me!" 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said nonchalantly. 

"Can you just get out so I can change?" she said. 

"Well," he huffed. "I can see that someone woke up on the wrong side of the bench." 

"GET OUT!" 

"Fine, I'm leaving, don't get your knickers in a twist." 

Hermione shoved him out of the compartment and slammed the door shut in his face. She quickly shut the blinds and took her luggage off of the top rack and dug around for her robes. When she finally found them she changed quickly and stepped out of the compartment to find Draco. 

She saw Draco standing in the middle of the aisle talking to Blaise and decided to join them. Once she retrieved them, they went back to their compartment to talk about why Narcissa was so antsy lately. Suddenly, a red-haired boy with a very fat face burst through the door. 

"Have any of you seen my dog?" the boy asked. 

Hermione looked towards the door pansy was pushing aside. "I think I just saw something crawling in the compartment over there." 

He entered the compartment Hermione had just pointed to. "Come here, Tori." He cooed. 

Before Pansy had time to react, the boy had scooped her up with much difficulty and shoved her into the cage that was big enough for a St. Bernard. He looked inside the cage and exclaimed, "You've gained so much weight, Tori!" 

Pansy gasped, "I'm not a bloody dog, put me down!" 

"Since when can you speak, Tori?" he asked. 

As they were passing Draco, Hermione, and Blaise's door, they heard shuffles and shrieks as the chubby redhead shoved Pansy through the next opening. When the three of them caught wind of this conversation they couldn't contain their laughter, but opted to snigger into their palms instead.

* – * – * 

They arrived at the Hogsmeade station an hour later and rushed off the train. When they got to the lake a man, much too tall to be human, waved all of the first years over. They entered the boats and started sailing towards the grand castle. The ride was going smoothly until the comfortable silence was broken by a shriek.

They looked over to see what the ruckus was about and they saw Pansy thrashing and spluttering in the Black Lake. Too shocked to do anything, Hagrid just stared at the girl. Pansy shrieked once more as the infamous Giant Squid wrapped a tentacle around her waist. Pansy's scream was nothing compared to the piercing wail of the Giant Squid as it realized what a disgusting creature it was holding. It quickly retracted it's tentacles and descended deeper into the dark waters. 

Hagrid struggled to lift her back into his boat and when he finally managed to get her settled he wrapped his moleskin fur coat around her, making her look like a hideous half-breed. 


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter 6: The Sorting

Hermione fidgeted nervously as they climbed a hauntingly homey hallway that she took to almost immediately. It's arched, corrugated stone ceiling gave her a warm feeling of safety, and she turned to see Draco cautiously climbing out of his boat and hurrying after her, his robes flying behind him.

They walked, together, toward the opening in the stairwell and scrambled onto sweeping grass plains in the shadow of the magnificent castle. The first-years took a moment to gape at the classic architectural points of the turrets and bridges, or at least Hermione thought they were, for she couldn't see why they wouldn't, and she pointed out each one (to their disappointment) but luckily Hagrid gave her a clap on the back to push her forward, and she had to take a few moments to recover from her cardiac arrest (to their quiet relief).

Hagrid led them forward toward an oak door facing north, and as he tapped it with the mysterious pink umbrella that hung respectfully inside his jacket at most times, the great, hollow wooden doors swung inward, revealing a very stiff-looking women with sleek black hair pulled tightly into a bun, robes of the deepest emerald, and square-shaped spectacles perched low on her nose as she peered at them over the top. A permanent grimace emanated from her sharp, shadowed face, and despite the welcoming greetings she stated as she led them through the school, Draco couldn't quite shake her piercing glare. Hagrid introduced her as Professor McGonagall.

She stopped abruptly in a corridor with muffled chattering pounding the walls from the outside, and Draco could only assume that the Great Hall was behind the tall doors towering high above them.

"How do you open the doors," Pansy shouted from behind.

The already stiff women stood straighter, and she looked as though she wanted to throttle the short, plump, furry girl standing right behind her.

"We walk through them," she said with obvious sarcasm.

"I don't know how to do that."

"'Course you don't," Professor McGonagall muttered under her breath.

"Oh, just run straight through, like the platform," piped Draco from behind.

A look of alarm flashed across professor McGonagall's pointed face. "Don't – " she started, but it was too late. Pansy rushed passed the hand the professor held up and ran/wobbled straight toward the wall. She buckled and gasped as she crashed flat against the hard stone, and flopped to the ground, clutching her knee, which had chipped off a section of rock and was now twisting grotesquely.

"Just leave her there," Blaise whispered to Draco, who sniggered quietly. Their comments didn't go unnoticed by the flustered professor, who was too busy to bother with them.

"Well, she can't take points from us," mumbled a sandy-haired boy with a heavy Irish accent. "Term hasn't really started yet."

Hermione hadn't the slightest clue what they were talking about, which bothered her more than she would've expected. She decided she would read up on her stolen _Hogwarts: A History_ textbook.

Transparent and shimmering, a fat ghost floated to a hard-faced, bloody one sitting atop an equally bloody stallion. Hermione looked uncertainly their way and waited to be escorted into the Great Hall, not paying much notice to the moaning pug-faced girl rolling on the floor, a shard of bone sticking out of her inner thigh. The thought crossed her mind that McGonagall was waiting for the pain to sink in before finally repairing the girl's shattered leg, but she quickly dismissed it, almost sure their professor couldn't be that bad. The first years stepped over the heap of a girl.

As Pansy struggled to her wide feet, whimpering faintly at the now less severe pain, Hermione knew for a fact that she wouldn't be asking any more stupid questions.

They entered the hall.

The warm glow of thousands of hovering candlesticks encompassed her face as she looked skyward at an exact replica of outer space and its multiple constellations, a charm that not only impressed, but gave her a nice, tingly feeling inside.

McGonagall rushed to the High Table and pulled a stool from behind it, quickly unraveling a long scroll at the same time, eager to get a move on. She propped an old, stitched and floppy hat on the stool. To Hermione's (and everyone else's) complete surprise, the hat shuddered and pricked up its pointed top, as if listening for something. It then jumped into a melodious tune:

_I, the hat, have chosen_

_That I will sing a song,_

_Of each of the four founders,_

_For I've been around so long._

_An argument had broken out,_

_Among the founding four._

_A conniption, nonetheless,_

_That couldn't be ignored._

_Slytherin left the quartet,_

_Miffed by their opinions,_

_Leaving only in his place_

_House-elves, obsequious little minions._

_The otherwise cheerful castle,_

_Mourned for several years,_

_For Slytherin had rubbed off on the students,_

_Who were condescending towards their peers._

_Ravenclaw had learnt the most,_

_From the argument that divided their lot._

_And forth decided not to boast,_

_Of the tiara she'd soon sought._

_They each claimed the objects_

_That would show the worth of their house._

_Slytherin, a glittering locket,_

_That sparkled with bone-chilling loathing._

_Ravenclaw, her now prized crown,_

_Topped upon her clothing._

_Gryffindor, a gleaming sword,_

_The enemy it would slay._

_And Hufflepuff, with her shining cup,_

_Would always keep them at bay._

_Those trusting days were ever gone._

_No one saw worth in friendship._

_They parted with no looking back,_

_And, owing searching, found promising leadership._

_Since Slytherin had abandoned the castle,_

_The students' learning had not ceased._

_In fact, upon his leaving,_

_Their knowledge of kindness had even increased._

_Their rejoicing had been put off,_

_And each had now grown old._

_Ravenclaw outstretched a shriveling hand,_

_And came back up with a hat covered in mold._

_With her last air of self-confidence,_

_She brandished her wand,_

_And lifted it above her head,_

_The others did the same._

_They each brought them down upon my maggoty top,_

_And, ta-da, they gave me brains._

_This castle has brought you together,_

_You young witches and wizards._

_And as I continue to whither,_

_You must quarter for her._

_We must not divide again._

_We join here to learn._

_We can't begin our descent,_

_Or let the spite and venom return._

_And we must unite inside her,_

_Or we'll crumble from within._

_I have told you, I have warned you,_

_Let the sorting now begin!_

The entire hall roared with cheers.

McGonagall began reading off her roll of parchment.

"Abbot, Hannah," she called. A girl with pig tails tumbled over her feet and placed the hat excitedly over her head. It fell past her ears and into her eyes, and the moment it touched her blonde head, it bellowed, "HUFFLEPUFF," in a triumphant voice.

"Bones, Susan," was also a Hufflepuff, and she scuttled over to sit next Hannah at one of the four tables decorated with empty gold plates.

"Boot, Terry," was a Ravenclaw. He shuffled happily over to another of the four tables.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy," was Ravenclaw-worthy. "Brown, Lavender," was the first named Gryffindor.

"Bulstrode, Millicent," a nasty looking Slytherin, lumbered over to sit by a fifth-year at her table, who cowered away from her and slid a few feet over on the bench.

A few more names went by. Before Hermione knew it, "Finnigan, Seamus," was declared worthy of Gryffindor house and she was up next.

Hermione was so nervous and agitated that when her name was called, she practically flew to the stool and jammed the hat atop her head, eagerly waiting, waiting to get it over with.

It was a few seconds before the hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN," and there was clapping and cheering and patting of the backs as she walked to her table, careful not to sit next to Millicent. A couple more names passed by swiftly, and when Draco was called forward, the hat had barely touched his bleached blonde head when it once again bellowed to the hall, "SLYTHERIN," and he, too, sat at the table, next to Hermione, who had saved him a small spot on her left.

Pansy Parkinson slowly approached the stool, sitting down carefully. When the hat toughed her head, it said in an insulted tone, "So now Hogwarts is accepting animals? Just because they are allowed to come here doesn't mean that I have to waste my time sorting them. I refuse to sort this little pug – okay maybe not so little – "

Dumbledore walked over to the hat and explained to it that Pansy was a girl and _not_ a pug. After they got that sorted out, the hat made it's decision and embarrassedly shouted out, "SLYTHERIN." She wobbled over to the table and sat down next to Milicent, who was discreetly scooting away. Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, and he elicited the most cheers of them all.

A few more people were sorted and then it was time for Ron to go up. He was so nervous he nearly soiled himself. Before the hat even touched his disgusting Brillo-pad hair, it yelled out, "HUFFLEPUFF."

Blaise was the last person to be sorted. He refused to sit on the stool insisting that the red-haired boy before him had wet the seat. He was sorted while standing up, but it still didn't take the hat very much time to bellow, "SLYTHERIN," when it settled upon his dark head.

Draco was staring hopefully at the glittering gold plates laid neatly across the sweeping tablecloth. Hermione was just about to ask him what he was doing, when Dumbledore started to give announcements, and her attention was then averted to the headmaster.

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" he finished, and then raised his hands gracefully to the ceiling. Food appeared on the plates, and Draco was so hungry he didn't even bother himself with thinking about the fact that their were no desserts.

But he was wrong – very, in fact. Just as he was finishing off the last bites of a large steak, the bits left on his plate vanished and cleaned, leaving him with the bite on his fork, which he ate and then laid it back on the tablecloth; it cleaned itself, too, with a small shine and the sound of a knife slicing metal. The platters in the middle of the table cleared and refilled with the most decadent desserts Hermione had ever seen, and Draco could hardly contain himself – he purposely left and allowed himself to be led to the loo, only to return a few minutes later with a full appetite. Hermione groaned when he took extra scoops of bread pudding, making a note to herself to write Narcissa tomorrow about Draco's very apparent sugar addiction. Before the feast had ended, a large explosion erupted from the center of the Great Hall and three third year students launched towards the ceiling on their broomsticks. They dropped crackling balls of light, and multicolored explosions erupted from the least expected places; one fizzled and popped alarmingly close to Milicent's head, and ash dusted the left side of her face; Pansy looked up just in time to see a dung bomb erupt in her eyes. A girl with straight dark hair and a pale complexion, wearing a Slytherin tie, zoomed around the perimeter of the hall and slowed as she neared Pansy. She yanked her up by her hair and dropped her four feet above the table, straight into the treacle pudding, which splashed the nearby victims. Fred Weasley lifted a second year by the scruff of his neck and hung him by the back of his robes on the brackets of an unlit torch, and shouted towards his Slytherin companion, "Nice one, Morrisan!" His twin, George Weasley, wove through the hovering candlesticks, occasionally ducking down and throwing Filibuster Fireworks in the faces of unsuspecting first years. They exploded spontaneously next to them and they fell out of their seats.

* – * – *

A fifth-year with a mischievous smile that exposed large teeth led them through convoluted corridors and down deeper into the dungeons, where oiled chains hung freely out in the open throughout the passageways, dimly lit by the occasional torchlight. Crossed swords gleamed on their own, and the small noises that floated from behind them elicited yelps from mostly Hermione and a couple of the other whimpering students.

Draco tried to remember the route they took, but it kept going on, and he lost track. Left, right, right, left-fork, left, right. . . . He didn't bother after that. Further passed the last turn was a door of the same wood as the others. The prefect mumbled something Draco couldn't quite hear from the back, (it sounded as though he said "Poisen") and the door swung outward, opening onto a darkened common room ruffling with powerful scents that wrinkled their noses immediately. More long, heavy chains, which no normal magically-altered giant could lift, blocked most of the entrance.

"You'll get used to it," said the nameless prefect matter-of-factly, gesturing to the majority of noses pinched at the pungent odor.

Pansy had kept quiet throughout most of this, but she couldn't help herself. "How do we get in?" she said obnoxiously yet again, cringing as she dared to look at her slightly mangled leg.

Draco was just about to tell her to walk through it again, but a small mousy haired boy nudged him and shook his head fervently, for he feared the sight of more blood. Pansy waited for answers, looking about, but everyone ignored her as the prefect waved his wand, the chains hovering, and led them through the door.

Draco and Hermione had not had the chance to debate who got to keep Buttercup during term, who was sitting sleepily in Hermione's carry-on. But they hadn't decided, and Draco thought he'd better bring it up. He couldn't have been more wrong.

"Who's keeping Buttercup," he said swiftly, looking pointedly at her bag. She raised her eyebrows and began walking towards a very tall spiraling staircase very much like the one at The Manor. Buttercup yawned quietly in her bag, poking a furry paw out the top, as if stretching.

"Me, of course," she said as though it was obvious and they had discussed it before. It was apparent that she had assumed beforehand that she was keeping him. She climbed the steps easily and quickly as a fourth-year, nasty-looking as ever, directed her to her dorm, which she would share with Pansy, Millicent, and a girl with glossy brown hair who was much like a goblin in terms of size and demeanor.

Draco began to follow Hermione, but when his heels touched the very first step, it became slippery and he slid on his back down what appeared to be a curved slate of stone. The steps had turned to a slide, obviously not granting him entry to the girl's dormitory. He watched Hermione and Buttercup disappear around the corner, cursing himself and her.

Draco walked dejectedly up the staircase directly adjacent to the other. As he opened a door labeled FIRST-YEARS, he took in majestic replicas of old-fashioned furniture; four-posters, wooden dressers, armoires. It was a very appealing sight. He hopped through the hung green velvet onto one of the four-posters and admired the softness of the sheets, which were even softer than the ones at home. He glanced around briefly and continued rubbing his cheek against them, smiling happily with deep ardor for the fabric. Draco faintly paid attention to the mousy haired boy peeking at him curiously through the space in the velvet pleasantly encompassing his bed – In fact, he completely ignored him.

Draco was used to banquets and feasts, but never like the one just an hour before, so he felt quite tired and slumped back into his new bed, straight into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* – * – *

Draco woke to find a note on his mahogany dresser, written in small, neat handwriting:

_Fellow roomy,_

_Going to breakfast. Your welcome to come down with me, but I know I'll probably be down by then, since I'm writing this note because you won't be up when I'm gone. Sleep well!_

– _T. N._

_{P. S. Don't be alarmed if you wake up around noon, there's nothing wrong with you (probably), I just drugged your pumpkin juice last night so you wouldn't hog the shower. Hope that doesn't hamper our friendship. Bye!}_

Draco looked, alarmed, toward his empty glass on the same table as his clock, which, across its face, read . . . _11:30! _He stared at the empty bed across from his. On a pillow were a dirty quill and a pad of paper. The mousy haired boy had _drugged_ him? Outraged, Draco hurriedly grabbed his school textbooks for double potions lessons with Gryffindor at noon (he'd gotten the itinerary at the end of the feast) and threw on a pair of pants and hobbled, one leg in, down the staircase, balancing his bag in one hand and a stack of books in the other.

* – * – *

As Draco shot down the drab hall with his belt, half looped through his pants, trailing behind him, he noticed something odd about the dank dungeon floors, which at one time had been horribly damp and monotonous, and were now dreadfully depressing on a whole new level. At first he couldn't understand what could be so surprising about a dreary dungeon, and was about to dismiss the thought when he suddenly caught the scent of burnt reptile wafting through the corridor.

He scrunched his nose and hiccoughed as a new, fresher version of the stench reached his nostrils. His eyes were watering when he reached the Potions classroom, and he was forced to wave his hand feverishly in front of his face to clear the billowing purple smoke clogging the room's atmosphere; he knew immediately where the awful scent was coming from, for it was strongest near a cauldron overflowing with bubbling, runny green liquid, which had begun to erode the shiny black paint on the cauldron's disintegrating rim. He saw a round-faced, fidgeting boy nervously stirring the boiling liquid with a wooden ladle. He had something that looked like a surgical mask fixed on his face, so as not to breathe in the nauseating fumes, and was glancing around anxiously at the students and teacher passed out on the floor, who hadn't been wearing the masks.

Draco was clutching his nose and mouth to protect from the fumes as well and watched, shocked frozen, as the boy stared, like a cornered animal, at the potion now pooling around his feet, protected by his shoes which were now melting like the cauldron.

Draco hurriedly dragged the boy from the potion and hopelessly waved his hand over the smoke, as if trying to make it stop; unfortunately, this only made the effects of the potion stronger, for he was closer and it was stronger. It stubbornly clotted his vision until he could see no more, until he couldn't breathe, and he just barely fainted, crashing in a heap next to a familiar face; he clutched their hand and felt excruciatingly dizzy, not able to breathe at all. He saw a blank pair of eyes before descending into the darkness, clutching the warm hand, as if it would bring him back. He stared up at the face, and a look of shock crossed his own before he passed out, like the others, completely.

It was Hermione.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter 7: The House-Elf**

**After the potions incident, no one had been quite comfortable entering ****Professor Snape****'s classroom – everyone had been healed immediately – discovered by a passerby (to ****Pansy****'s horror, seeing several unmoving heaps) who fainted as well. Crabbe and Goyle were heading back to the Slytherin common room, only to see many students passed out inside the potions classroom and an abnormally large pug in the doorway. They proceeded to drag them to the hospital wing – and each had been fed a rosy pink healing potion, which Draco had spluttered at Madame Pomfrey from a ten foot distance – but still, it wasn't something you just got over by your next potions class days later. And, of course, Neville didn't get by without punishment; Snape had instructed him to scrub the frog guts that exploded on the walls (which would explain the reptilian scent Draco could smell even weeks after) until he had at least created enough friction to rub off three layers of his own skin. In addition, every student affected by the fumes shot Neville dirty looks when they passed him in the halls, which he returned with hopeless shrugs, wringing his hands.**

**So now, with the incident in the past, Pansy was in an empty classroom training her new house elf. "Okay, so all you have to do is follow students around without being seen and write down what they say about me," she said, handing the house elf a scroll. "At the end of each week report back to me and keep me updated on all of the Hogwarts gossip. Got it?"**

**"Yes, master," the small elf squeaked.**

**"It's Miss," said Pansy exasperatedly, "Just go and find out what everyone is saying about me."**

"**Yes, Master," said the elf again, clutching his ears.**

**Draco had just finish cleaning his teeth of the Healing Potion that each student affected by Neville Longbotton's "Stunt", as Madame Pompfrey referred to it, was required to take for three months, immediately before bed. "Just in case," she said evenly, flicking her wand without looking; a nearby red-headed boy just rising from a deep, dark dream-state who was slipping on his morning socks had passed out back on to his hospital bed.**

**Since that occurred a while ago, Draco thought he would have become used to the acquired flavor. But he still nearly retched every time he picked bits of the smelly substance from his teeth. Its rosy color was very misleading.**

**As he dragged his feet back through the path to his draped velvet bed, he continued to wonder why Professor Snape and all the others had fainted, for all current victims were supposed to be wearing something like an enchanted double-sided light jacket, called a dopplesuit, designed to covered your entire face, except for small pinpricks in the general eye area for you to see. Not only did it do that, but it also had built in charms; flying, camouflaging, amazing strength, all required for making some complex potions. Looking back, Draco didn't think it fair to blame everyone for a mistake he, too, made himself. But he didn't care and went on blaming them anyway. He didn't have the energy and felt quite lethargic, for that was his third dose of the potion he'd had in the past two hours and he wasn't up for debating certain subjects in his mind. However, as he drifted off under the soft comforter, he allowed himself one more thought.**

**Why wasn't Hermione wearing a dopplesuit?  
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**The next morning Hermione got out of her warm bed and made her way to the bathroom. She opened the door and saw Pansy singing to herself in front of the mirror. She instantly identified the song as "Just the Way You Are" by Bruno Mars, and rolled her eyes while thinking that only Pansy would sing that to herself (probably because no one else would).**

**Pansy had been woken up early that morning because of a strange dream that she had the night before. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, she noticed that she had about two hours before she had to head down to breakfast. She decided that she would take a nice long bath and pamper herself a bit.**

**Pansy made her way to the bathroom and took out an array of different soaps for her bubble bath. She turned the various knobs on the tub and filled it with warm water and an odd combination of different smelling oils. After the tub was filled with water coming from the thin stream out of the faucet and a thick layer of foamy bubbles, Pansy entered it. She sighed and relaxed into the tub. In fact, Pansy was so relaxed she almost forgot about her other roommates who would be up soon, and decided it would be best for her to get ready. Pansy stood and took a towel off of the warming rack. She stared at her reflection and realized she needed a pep talk. She thought to herself, _I'm beautiful, alluring, enticing, gorgeous, and bewitching – who wouldn't want to be with me?_  
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**She promptly decided on a song that would be her new anthem.**

**She stared into the mirror and started to sing, _"Oh, her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they're not shining, her hair, her hair falls perfectly without her trying."_ This song describes me perfectly, Pansy thought.**

**Before she could sing the chorus the door opened to reveal Hermione, who was leaning on the door frame, trying to control her laughter.**

*** – * – ***

**Draco picked the lacewings from his teeth. Another horrific ingredient of Madame Pompfrey's new Healing Potion. They'd been required to take it after they had been turned over to the hospital wing, and most of the reactions were somewhat comical.**

"**Draco! Draco!" called Theodore Nott obstreperously.**

**Draco turned with utter annoyance. "What?" he said somewhat fiercely.**

**His eyes widened as he saw Theodore barreling toward him. He crashed into to Draco and they collapsed on the spot.**

"**What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" shouted Draco with obvious rage.**

"**Sorry, sorry! But look at this!" Theodore shoved something into Draco's face.**

**It was very colorful, with brightly-hued spots decorating its spine. A frog. One that Draco recognized to be Neville Longbottom's. Good, it was his blasted potion that knocked them all out.**

**Draco picked it from Theodore's hand. "Where'd you get this?"**

"**The Gryffindor common room!" he said excitedly.**

"**How _dare_ you step foot in there!" said Draco, though he really had nothing against them. Lucius had told him not to trust anyone involved with Gryffindor House.**

"**Because one of them told me my hair looked weird." His eyes were widening like it was excruciatingly obvious. "So I stole their frog!"**

"**You stole onefrog" Draco let his hand slack and the frog tipped to the floor. "And your hair does look weird."**

"**I meant to say that someone told me _your_ hair looked weird – hey wait! What's wrong with mine?"**

"**_My_ hair's fine. Just go away. Wait, wait," Draco called him back.**

"**Yes?" said Theodore hopefully.**

"**Do you have floss?"**

"**What's a floss?"**

"**Never mind, Hermione probably has some. She introduced me to it. It makes me feel like a peppermint candy – "**

"**You mean Granger?" Theodore interrupted. "She's such a _loser_. And you thought Gryffindors were bad?"**

**Draco's cheeks flushed. Theodore continued before he could say anything.**

"**And why are you insulting _my_ hair? Have you seen her – "**

"**That's enough!" Draco suddenly shouted. He pulled out his wand, not giving Theodore enough time to react. He sent a mild stinging jinx that blasted him square in the nose. Theodore clutched his face and began to writhe on the floor.**

"**Aggghh!" He moaned uproariously. Overreacting for sure.**

**Draco stepped over him and began to walk to Hermione's room. The lacewings were starting to make his breath sour.**

*** – * – * **

**Hermione sat on her four poster. A sharp thunk told her that Millicent had reached her own bed and was preparing to go to sleep. **

**She reached for her dresser. On it sat a note. A picture, actually, that she couldn't stop looking at, trying to interpret its meaning:**

**Hmmmm . . . perhaps it was symbolic. She promised herself to go down to the Hogwarts library first thing tomorrow morning, before Herbology with the Gryffindors. They got paired up with them more often then any other house. . . . **

*** – * – ***

**Draco stared lifelessly at Professor Sprout, who was instructing them on how to extract slight poisons from saplings. He peeked toward Hermione, who was alternating between taking notes and looking intently at their professor. Although she seemed to be taking on the role of teacher's pet, he knew that she was quite bored, for they had both learned how to extract poisons from any plant when they were six. Narcissa gardened often and Lucius used poisons often, for reasons no one could place – he was always holed up in his room doing who knows what.**

"**And where shall we make the incision in the stamen on this one?"**

**Professor Sprout was holding up a slender blossom. No student could tell by the look of it – except for Draco and Hermione, Narcissa had taught them – but the flower, and all of its kind, had been magically enhanced by Helga Hufflepuff long, long ago. It only showed its true form when under attack. Draco had merely seen pictures of it, the great monster it became. A humungous beet-colored head resembling that of a Venus Flytrap mounted on a thick, bright green stem. Hard as armor. Yellowing teeth ringing together at the smallest sound. They were used as guards in old war zones. Despite its vicious quality and tendency to lash out, it was also used for healing. Draco never understood how, though, because the descriptions he read didn't go into specific detail.**

**His eyes flashed worriedly. If you made an incision in it, it would think it was under attack.**

**As if in slow motion, a student's hand shot up, they grabbed an odd silver utensil, and were just about to slice the stamen when Draco leapt forward, knocking it out of their hand.**

"**Hey!"**

"**Draco, get back to your seat!" said Professor Sprout sharply. **

"**But, Professor, that's a Monstrum Robur!" Draco cried. Hermione had been observing his conniption and was nodding furiously.**

**Professor Sprout was now looking at the flower with fresh eyes. "Well, bust my knickers, it is! One hundred points to Slytherin!" she declared, although she was head of Hufflepuff house. She must have been extremely grateful – that put Slytherin in the lead.**

**Draco didn't really think that was necessary, but he wasn't complaining. The Gryffindors were quietly seething.**

**Professor Sprout was looking at Draco like he was a prize, for he _had_ saved them all. He smirked and kicked back in his chair. Their professor was now introducing a very bulbous purple root gnashing jagged teeth. It was as big as a cauldron and locked behind the solid bars of a brass cage.**

**Still not as dangerous as the Monstrum Robur.**

*** – * – * **

"**Draco."**

**Draco whirled around towards where the whisper came from. "Hullo, Hermione."**

"**Hi. Congratulations on the one hundred points. I never expected something like that from Professor Sprout."**

"**Yeah, well . . . Oh! I didn't get the chance to ask – are you okay?"**

"**What?"**

"**The potions incident," he prodded. "You were one of the students in there. You passed out!"**

"**Oh, yes. I'm fine, thanks." Draco didn't believe her. She was quite pale.**

"**Okay," he said slowly. "Come by my room at five. I need to show you something. It's got to do with our spells."**

"**Fine." Hermione was panting as they climbed the steps to the castle. She hadn't been like this before.**

**Draco looked at her. "Are you sure you're all right?" he said once again.**

"**Yes, yes." **

"**You're sweating," Draco adaged.**

"**I'm fine!" No, definitely not. But he left it alone.**

**They entered Hogwarts. Draco didn't know what was in Greenhouse 1, where Herbology with the Gryffindors had been held, but Hermione needed it. Badly.**

**Hermione insisted that they go to the library, that she meant to in the morning but got caught up in a 'riveting, violent, jarring novel' and something about vampires that he didn't really pay attention to. Draco followed her. He wanted to check out some Herbology textbooks.**

**He picked them off the shelves, some requiring wand usage for their heights, some not, but he used his wand for them, anyway. He wound up with a ring of books encircling, almost orbiting, his body. They floated around his waist like a wide belt.**

"**Draco, what are you doing?" asked Hermione, eying the books.**

"**Nothing," he said faintly. He observed a particularly thick one's table of contents.**

**Hermione went back to picking books. Draco didn't know why she was displaying more effects from Neville's potion. Maybe because she was in the room longer.**

"**Look at this." She showed him a shining, hardcover ectype of one of his textbooks, with silver-air brushed pages and a glowing spine. "I'd think you would rather have this one."**

**Draco took it gratefully from her, taking great care not to drop it. Even if it wasn't that nice, if it was wilted and worn down, Madame Pince would make sure he was immediately concussed.**

"**Thanks." He gently dropped it into orbit.**

*** – * – * **

**Lucius Malfoy dribbled the last bit of alcohol into a glass. Some spilled onto the table, but he didn't notice.**

"**Sir," Dobby poked him. He had passed out on the table very suddenly. "Are you sleeping?"**

**Lucius remained still.**

**Dobby levitated him across the room with a sharp snap of his fingers. Lucius's long, cloaked arms dragged along the floor, creating a droning _hiss_.**

**Lucius flopped into bed on his side when Dobby lost his hold at the sight of something odd. There. Out the window.**

**A howl from the mouth of a shaggy wolf carrying loudly throughout the Malfoy's front yard. Otherwise known as . . . the Gardens.**

**Dobby wasn't frightened by it. He casted a silencing charm that knocked out all sound within three hundred meters of The Manor. It became eerily quiet, as was intended.**

**Dobby proudly flapped his ears as he made his way out the door. Lucius would probably wake up from the sleeping potion at around the afternoon.**

*** – * – * **

"**But why not?"**

"**No, Theodore. That's my final answer."**

"**Why can't I practice my magic on your hair?" Theodore whined.**

"**Because I don't trust you," said Draco.**

"**Well, if you'd just said that in the first place – "**

"**I did say that in the first place!"**

" – **then we wouldn't be wasting each other's time – "**

"**_You're_ wasting _my_ time!" Draco interrupted.**

"**Fine, I'll just go find Pansy," Theodore huffed.**

**Draco almost snickered at the end result. He had, indeed, found Pansy, and for some unknown reason (Pansy was desperate for attention) she had said yes. She also didn't know that Theodore was worst in their class, right next to Ronald Weasley. Even Crabbe and Goyle were ahead of them.**

"**What do you think?" Pansy asked stupidly. She fluffed her once dreary locks. **

**Her hair was shining, but not in a good way. It looked like an oily slab of boomslang skin. The ends split in an unappealing manner. But worst of all, it was dyed _red and gold_. Gryffindor colors. Theodore must not have been able to conjure up a mirror. He was now looking guiltily away, avoiding any chance at eye contact.**

"**So . . . " said Pansy once.**

**Draco chuckled nervously. "Better than Theodore's."**

**Theodore scowled.**

"**I know, right?" she said giddily, waddling out of the room with her newfound form of horror swinging from side to side behind her.**

"**Has she seen it yet?" Draco asked disgustedly.**

"**Suprisingly, yes," Theodore responded.**

**Draco sighed. "I'm going to Hermione's. To see if she's okay. She was supposed to come by here over an hour ago." He left before Theodore could make any rude remarks, though he didn't really think he would – his bandaged nose served as a constant reminder of what Draco could do to anyone that made fun of his friends.**

**Draco jogged down the steps with mild urgency, letting the faint green light that engulfed the Slytherin common room, which was right under the Black Lake, cover his body. What was holding her back? **

**He reached the girls' dormitory. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at his feet. He began to hover and floated up the steps. A way around the charms that traditionally blocked him out.**

**Draco watched the staircase transform into a slide underfoot, which made him quite glad that his parents (more accurately, Narcissa) had the good sense to teach him and Hermione magic at an early age. Just in case, he remained above ground until he was sure it wouldn't give way into the sloping stone arched behind him. **

**He rapped on Hermione's door.**

**She opened it. She still looked clammy, to Draco's despair, and spoke in a hoarse voice. "Hi." **

**Draco floated in and landed gracefully on the floor. The invitation to go inside was implied. He turned to Hermione and brushed a hair out of her eyes. "You're sick."**

"**No I'm not!" She tried to hide a loud hiccough with a laugh.**

"**Come on," Draco took her hand and led her to the hospital wing.**

**Madame Pompfrey gave her a small bottle of Healing Potion. "This is stronger than normal," she warned. Hermione nodded and took a small sip. The color almost immediately returned to her cheeks.**

"**Thank you," Hermione whispered to Draco once they returned to her room.**

"**For what?"**

"**Taking care of me."**

**Draco went red. "I barely did anything," he stated modestly.**

"**Well, I would've gotten worse if it weren't for you." Hermione kindly kissed him on the cheek and stepped into the doorway. "Good night," she said, and disappeared behind the wooden door.**

**Draco smiled. He started walking away. When she was out of earshot, he looked down at his feet, entranced, and whispered "Good night, Hermione."**

**He had forgotten about the stairs. He slipped when they transformed into the slippery stone slide. It was actually kind of fun – he'd never been on one before, Narcissa had only read them stories of muggle playgrounds when they were getting ready to go to sleep. Right by the fireplace: they sat on an overstuffed sofa and curled up next to each other while Lucius tried to walk in a straight line a few feet away.**

**Draco was woken from his stupor at the sight of a new-and-still-not-improved Pansy – materializing, seemingly out of nowhere, at the end of the slide. The last curve of stone was approaching fast. . . .**

**Draco crashed, feet first, into Pansy. He wound up on the floor – no damage done. Pansy spluttered and blood came out.**

"**Draco, I need to go to the hospital wing!" she cried, grabbing his arm.**

**Draco looked at her. She had a gash running along the side of her face, three missing teeth, and a bloody nose. Not to mention a swollen, sprained wrist.**

"**Your fine," he replied, shaking her grip on his arm and heading back to the boys' dormitory.**


End file.
